Billable Hour
by DottieP
Summary: Santana pays Quinn a visit at her office. Think of this as a companion piece to "Office Hours." Same universe as "Seeing You for the First Time Again" et al.
1. Chapter 1

**Billable Hour**

**Summary**: Santana pays Quinn a visit at her office. Think of this as a companion piece to "Office Hours." Same universe as "Seeing You for the First Time Again" et al.

**Pairing**: Quinn/Santana

**Rating**: NC-17. It's smut.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own these characters, yada, yada, yada.

**Author's Note**: I'm trying to update "Seeing You for the First Time Again," but writer's block has struck. And, Kabensi said that it is helpful to write porn when this happens, so here it is. Oh, Quinn's assistant's name and her colleagues' names—once again, I _had_ to do it. Finally, I'd like to thank Ms. Agron for wearing those shoes and that dress yesterday (to Letterman).

**Friday, late afternoon**

Santana was finishing up another round of revisions on her article that was headed for publication. She was getting frustrated with the editors' requests for nitpicky revisions like additional (unnecessary, in her opinion) footnotes, so she decided to stop while she was ahead. Well, she decided to stop before she put her fist through the computer monitor screen.

Instead, she decided to surprise a certain blonde, but initially, she was not sure how. Quinn was always the one who seemed to amaze her with creative and romantic gestures—she was a tough act to follow. A smile spread across her face as she realized that she had a few cards to play. So, she changed into a very specific outfit, grabbed her bag, and headed out of their loft to run a couple of errands before going to Quinn's office in the Financial District.

After her two stops along the way, she was on the elevator approaching the 44th floor of one of Manhattan's many high-rise buildings. She felt very much out of place given her state of dress and the packages in her arms, but she shrugged it off. Upon reaching one of the many floors occupied by Quinn's firm, she maneuvered her way around brokers, lawyers, executive assistants, paralegals, and up-and-comers trying to impress the "suits." Some said hi while others raced past her.

She reached Quinn's assistant's desk and smiled.

"Hi, Chris," she beamed. The well-coiffed young man looked up from his computer and returned the grin.

"Hi there, gorgeous!" He walked around his desk to give Santana a hug. She felt a bit awkward with her arms full, but he went in for the hug anyway. "What brings you down to this neck of the woods?"

"Just stopping by to say hi. I have a little gift for you." She handed over a slender velvet bag but stopped mid-air and snatched it away as a thought crossed her mind.

"Hey now! I want my gift," he whined.

"Oh, you'll get it," she replied, rolling her eyes. "I just need a quick favor."

"Anything…especially if I think what's in that bag is what it is," Chris smirked.

"First, how's her schedule look for the rest of the day?"

He returned his eyes to the screen, clicked the mouse a few times, and shrugged. "Completely clear. It's been rather slow this week. She's just in her usual meeting with Ryan and Marti right now; after that, she's all yours," he responded, adding a wink.

"Good," Santana smiled. "Can you block off the rest of the day for her then?" It was already 3:30 p.m., so Santana knew that the request wasn't inappropriate.

"For you, of course, darling. Now about my gift…"

She cut him off by holding up her hand. "Second, are you still friends with that host at Morimoto?"

Chris gave her a sideways glance and shit-eating grin. And, the brunette knew that look well. "Oh really?" she asked incredulously.

"Girl, you know it."

"Think you can get us in tonight?"

"Bitch, please. After what I did to—did _for_—that man, he better give me the best table in the house. Any particular time?"

"Eight-ish, around there."

"Consider it done; I'll text you with the time once I get a hold of him. I just might make it worth his while," Chris smirked. "He was hung like a…"

"Stop right there," Santana interrupted. "If you don't, I might just vomit all over your desk."

"Wow, you're such a lesbian."

"Hell yeah, I am!" They shared a laughed, and Santana finally handed over his gift. He took the proffered bag and excitedly dug his hand to first pull out what he suspected was in there: Stoli. Underneath the fashionista exterior was a mini-Patsy Stone, and no matter how hard Quinn tried, she couldn't get him to switch his vodka choice.

"You really know the way to a little queen's heart don't you, Santana," he said fondly. She chuckled in response and shook her head. "There's a little something else in there—think of it as a recommendation if you will," she added. He reached his hand to the bottom of the bag and felt a small plastic bottle.

He furrowed his brow at her before pulling the bottle out. "It's not safe for work, so I wouldn't take that out entirely, but you can see what it is," she suggested. He did as instructed and saw that it was a bottle of lube—definitely NSFW.

"Vodka and _this_? It's my lucky day. I'm ready for the weekend now!" They laughed again and smiled warmly at each other.

"Yeah, Quinn and I use that brand all the time," she smirked at him and winked. He made a mock vomit face. "Wow, you're such a homo," she retorted jokingly.

"Hell yeah I am!" Chris replied. She shook her head and walked towards Quinn's office door. And, Chris returned to his computer, even though he wanted to break out that bottle of Stoli.

####

Santana took a seat in one of the comfy office chairs in front of Quinn's desk. She placed her gift for the blonde on the floor next to her. It had been a while since she had been in this office, and she took these few moments to herself to actually take in her surroundings. The last time that she was here was when Quinn was moving in to this space, following a colleague's retirement. Quinn was simply lucky to get such a prime location as a junior associate (though she was on the verge of a promotion at the moment). The floor-to-ceiling window that spanned an entire wall gave Quinn and her visitors a magnificent view of the city, and the plush furniture made it feel more like a posh hotel lobby than an attorney's office.

Along the glass, behind the desk, were low bookcases, but they left a span of glass open, which Santana just knew is where Quinn would stand to think. She immediately envisioned the blonde, dressed in a power suit, poised at the window, looking across the urban landscape, and rolling ideas around in her head. Santana smiled at this and continued to examine the space. She noticed that Quinn did take her advice (well her and Chris's advice) about the artwork. They convinced her that her drawings were just as good as anything she could buy, so she scattered many of her own drawings around the large office. For Santana, these were memories—snapshots of places to which the couple had travelled: Paris, Hawaii, St. John, South Beach, New Orleans, and Chicago.

The brunette was lost in thought—her mind had ventured to New Orleans and a small jazz bar—when Quinn returned from her meeting. "This is a very pleasant surprise," Quinn said as she walked towards her desk, breaking Santana from her reverie. The brunette looked around quickly and then met Quinn's beautiful hazel-green eyes. "Wow…even _more_ of a pleasant surprise," she exclaimed as raked her eyes over the seated brunette: fitted white tank top, jeans that she wore like a second skin, and Quinn's favorite black cowboy boots. The blonde felt her mouth go dry. She also felt an instant wetness pool between her legs. _Shit. She isn't fooling around if she's wearing this outfit_.

Santana simply grinned at the enraptured blonde. She grabbed her gift, stood up, and walked over to Quinn's desk. Darkening hazel-green eyes followed her every step. "Jesus, Santana, how do you make jeans look that good?" Quinn exhaled in a near whisper. Santana ignored the leering…for now.

"I got this for your office. Thought it'd be a nice thing to see every morning," Santana said softly, handing Quinn a potted orchid—the blonde's favorite. Quinn almost didn't hear her because she was staring at very delicious cleavage. "Quinn?" Santana whispered.

"Huh? Oh…" the blonde collected her thoughts, shaking her head. "Thank you, honey. This is so sweet. It's beautiful and will look perfect in the sunlight, right by my desk." She placed the flower behind her on the bookcase, and she smiled at both the beauty of the purple orchid and at the sweetness of Santana's gesture.

The brunette sat on the corner of Quinn's desk and reached her hand out to unbutton the blonde's gray suit jacket. _I love her power suits—hugging her gorgeous curves in the right places. And that ass in this skirt. I could just…worship it_. She slid her hand against the soft cotton of the light pink blouse underneath.

"I just wanted to surprise you on a Friday afternoon. Is that okay? Or do you need to make this, like, a billable hour or something?" Santana quipped.

"It's very okay," Quinn responded quietly, leaning into Santana's touch. She then giggled a bit. "We don't have billable hours, though. We're not a law firm"

Santana blushed slightly and shrugged. "I've always wanted to say 'billable hour'," she said with a giggle. Quinn graced her with a full, beautiful laugh. "How about you explain it to me later?" Santana husked, instantly shifting the mood, and grabbed Quinn by the waist to pull her between her jean-clad legs.

Quinn wrapped her arms around Santana's neck, her eyes drifting to that tempting cleavage again, and responded in a low register, "I'd be happy to explain billable hour and any other legal concept to you."

"To my tits, you mean?" Santana quipped. A blonde head shot up; she was busted.

"I have no shame, Santana. You can't expect me to you when you wear this," she replied, first tugging on the edge of the tank top and then running her hand over a thigh. Santana's eyes lit up as a bright smile spread across her face; she loved that she could still have this effect on the blonde. Of course, Quinn's power suit and razor sharp, four-inch black heels had turned Santana's body on to a low hum the minute she caught sight of the blonde.

As she lazily drew her hands over Quinn's perfect ass, she licked full lips and began flicking her eyes between the blonde's lips and her darkening hazel-green eyes. "Your door is locked right?" Quinn heard the implication in Santana's voice and saw her staring at her lips. "Chris won't let anyone come in unless I say so."

"Good," Santana growled and dove in for a searing kiss that made Quinn gasp and further lean into Santana. Tongues wrestled and hands sought out skin under confining shirts. Quinn dragged her blunt nails up and down Santana's sides underneath the small layer of cotton, and Santana had yanked Quinn's blouse loose and trailed her fingers lightly around her back, sides, and just shy of her breasts, making the blonde groan in anticipation.

Quinn's hands were the first to reach hard nipples, and she tugged and tweaked over Santana's lace bra. She nearly tore one side of it as she pulled it down to get contact with skin, and the brunette's hips jutted forward as Quinn deftly twisted a nipple in pleasurable pain. As much as she was enjoying the blonde's attention, Santana lightly grasped her wrist and detached it from her chest, eliciting a whimper of disappointment from Quinn.

"Whaaaa…? Why?" Quinn asked with a full-on pout. Santana just shook her head and looked at the blonde with eyes clouded with lust. She removed the suit jacket and unbuttoned her blouse, giving her hands more contact with creamy skin.

"I want you the way I want you," Santana grunted. Quinn just quirked an eyebrow in response and decided to let Santana have her way—it was a win-win. The brunette roughly pushed Quinn back and hopped off the desk. She then grabbed the blonde by the waist as she backed into Quinn's large, cushy office chair. "Straddle me," Santana demanded while holding Quinn in an intense gaze. Before complying, though, Quinn took a moment to admire the brunette—a disheveled tank top, partly spread legs, dangerous looking boots, eyes wild with desire, and uneven breathing. A sensual smile crossed the blonde's face as she slowly took the couple of steps towards Santana and made a show of straddling her girlfriend.

She hiked up her skirt almost to her waist, allowing Santana to see her sheer pink thong, and then she deliberately and leisurely placed one leg on either side of the very aroused brunette. Santana's eyes were glued to the apex of Quinn's thighs, nearly drooling at the sight of that thong and what she could almost see underneath it. Right away, Quinn's smell hit Santana's nose, and she whimpered, licking her lips—almost tasting the blonde. "Fuck, Quinn," Santana softly moaned, and she nearly forgot what she had planned for that afternoon.

Santana wasted no time hauling Quinn in for a blazing kiss with one hand and sliding the other up towards a soaked pink thong. As she lightly grazed the blonde's inner thigh with her fingers, teasing her, Santana pulled back from the kiss to catch Quinn's eyes. When chocolate brown met hazel-green, she further tangled her fingers into short blonde hair, claiming Quinn. "Are you ready for me?" she asked in a voice thick with want. At those words, Quinn's hips started moving, silently begging for Santana's touch.

"I'm always ready for you, honey," Quinn husked and then smiled at Santana's reaction—a quick lick of a plump bottom lip. "Are you going to tease me all afternoon or fuck me?"

Santana could only growl then roughly slide her fingers under thin pink lace and coat her hand in liquid heat. With a simultaneous groan, the two crashed their lips together in a desperate kiss. The brunette drifted her free hand around to Quinn's ass and fiercely dug in her nails. Her fingers glided easily along slick, warm, sensitive skin, deliberately avoiding an increasingly throbbing clit. Two fingers hovered at Quinn's waiting entrance—teasing, barely dipping in and then immediately pulling out. She repeated this at an excruciating slow pace while still evading a clit that pleaded for a touch. Quinn looked down at the brunette, frustration in her eyes and her jaw clenched. Santana simply smiled evilly in response to the pained look.

The blonde almost violently tangled both hands in dark hair, pulling Santana so they were a hair's-breadth apart. "You fucking tease," Quinn snarled. Santana responded by leaning in and kissing and nipping at Quinn's supple neck. The blonde let her, relishing the feel of those full lips work over her sensitive skin. But, those fingers were still hovering at her opening, and Quinn could occasionally feel one finger barely graze the side or bottom of her entrance. She wanted nothing more than those talented fingers inside of her.

Quinn yanked Santana's head back by the hair to bore her eyes into the brunette's. "I'm not kidding, Santana. You better fuck me. Right. Now," Quinn insisted through gritted teeth. The feral smile spread slowly across Santana's beautiful face.

"You want my fingers inside of you? Then come and get them." She wasn't asking; she was demanding, and Quinn knew it. The blonde moaned as she dipped her hips down. Her dripping pussy met waiting fingers and sucked them in so quickly that both women gasped. Quinn's head dropped back and Santana lurched forward to continue her assault on the blonde's neck. Quinn's hips began moving vigorously while Santana kept her hand still save for the curling of her fingers.

"Fuck, yes, Quinn," Santana grunted into the blonde's neck. "I love fucking you like this." This only fueled Quinn on further, and she increased the roll of her hips, driving herself deeper on to Santana's hand. She dug her fingers into Santana's scalp with more strength, eliciting a groan of pleasure from the brunette. Santana knew that Quinn was simply holding on because her orgasm was only a few strokes away.

The brunette increased the force of the curl of her fingers, and Quinn immediately felt those skillful fingers hit her spot. Santana reflexively lowered her thumb and brushed a agonizingly hard clit. Quinn gasped again at the contact. Santana grazed her thumb over it slowly at first, but as the tendons in Quinn neck start straining against soft skin, she increased the pressure. She used the pad of her thumb to get as much contact with Quinn's throbbing clit as she could, making small circles while pushing slightly. Santana knew this would send the blonde over the edge.

The first wave hit Quinn violently, and her hips pounded harder and faster on Santana's fingers. "Shit, Santana…yes…fuck…yes," Quinn growled. Santana bit down on the blonde's neck as Quinn came, knowing the additional pulse of pain would make her come that much harder. "That's it, baby, come hard for me," Santana moaned into Quinn's neck.

Quinn's hips couldn't stop moving even after the last of the orgasm left her, and Santana's fingers wouldn't leave their warm, wet enclosure. The brunette relaxed her head on Quinn's shoulder while the blonde rested her cheek on top of Santana's head. Their ragged breathing was the only sound between them. Santana slowly extracted her fingers, brought them to her mouth, and took her time savoring every drop of Quinn that she could.

The blonde heard the whimpers of pleasure coming from her girlfriend and knew exactly what Santana was doing, which only triggered more arousal from Quinn. "So you're plan for this nice Friday afternoon was to tease me mercilessly?" Quinn asked with a hint of a grin.

"Exactly," Santana responded with a matching grin.

"You're lucky I love you so damn much or I'd be pissed." Santana pulled back, which caused Quinn to do the same. Their eyes finally met and both were still smiling.

"You _do_ love me and you also like being teased." Santana winked at Quinn. The blonde just rolled her eyes, knowing that the brunette had her number. "Fine. Whatever," Quinn bashfully replied. Santana giggled and gently tugged Quinn down for a sensual, leisurely kiss. They both hummed into the kiss, enjoying their closeness. Quinn also never grew tired of tasting herself on those perfect lips.

Santana was the first to reluctantly break apart. Her eyes scanned Quinn's flushed skin; the pink blouse was still hanging loosely open, which Santana thought was unbelievably sexy. The tight skirt was hiked up now around the blonde's waist, causing the brunette to whimper at the sight. She could see Quinn's inner thighs still glistening and all she wanted to do was to throw Quinn on her expansive desk and lick her dry.

But, she tore her eyes away and caught Quinn in an intense look. "You know, I'm not done with you yet, gorgeous," Santana whispered. Quinn simply responded with a bright, sexy grin.

**TBC**.


	2. Chapter 2

**Billable Hour—2/2**

**Summary**: Santana pays Quinn a visit at her office. Think of this as a companion piece to "Office Hours." Same universe as "Seeing You for the First Time Again" et al.

**Pairing**: Quinn/Santana

**Rating**: NC-17. It's smut.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own these characters, yada, yada, yada.

**Author's Note**: I'm trying to update "Seeing You for the First Time Again," but writer's block has struck. And, Kabensi said that it is helpful to write porn when this happens, so here it is.

Santana tore her eyes away and caught Quinn in an intense look. "You know, I'm not done with you yet, gorgeous," Santana whispered. Quinn simply responded with a bright, sexy grin. Then, the brunette pushed Quinn off of her lap, all the while sensually quirking an eyebrow. When they were both standing, the blonde grazed her eyes over Santana once again with her darkened hazel-green eyes landing pointedly on her favorite pair of boots. Santana allowed her girlfriend to leer, knowing that she was getting wetter as she admired her.

She pulled Quinn by the hand towards the open span of glass right next to the end of the low bookcases. The blonde, in between increasingly uneven breaths, finally spoke, "Will you leave these boots on tonight?" Santana grinned and replied quietly, "Only if you do what I say now." She pushed Quinn against the glass, pinning her there with hands on her hips, and she brought them nose-to-nose—a minor standoff because she knew Quinn would try to negotiate. Unlike work, though, the blonde did _not_ like to negotiate with Santana.

"Oh really?" Santana simply nodded. "And what if I don't do what you say?" Quinn was making a valiant effort at keeping a smirk off of her face.

"Simple, I won't let you come." Quinn narrowed her eyes, trying to read Santana. Sometimes, the brunette would simply "threaten" and other times, she was serious and would tease Quinn to a point akin to torture in the blonde's mind. Based on the look reflected back at her, it might be the latter today if she didn't comply.

"We'll see then, I guess. Won't we?" Quinn challenged, adding her own eyebrow flip. In response, Santana dragged her nails up both of Quinn's thighs and bunched her skirt around her waist to ensure that it stayed in place then she gruffly hooked her fingers under the thin string of the blonde's thong and yanked it down. The brunette caught the thong on the toe of her boot and both women looked down. Santana used her boot to bring the thong up her hand, and two sets of eyes followed the movement; Quinn let out a small whimper at the sight. Santana took the wet, thin fabric and bunched it in her hand. "These are mine for today. You'll get them back if you listen," she nearly growled before putting them in her jeans pocket. Quinn moaned and dropped her head back with a thump against the glass and rolled her eyes in arousal—demanding, aggressive Santana was a huge turn-on for her.

Quinn's perfect ass was pressed firmly against the glass, exposing her for all of downtown Manhattan to see (if they could) and her dripping pussy was waiting for Santana's touch. The blonde groaned at the feel of the cool glass on her skin juxtaposed with the overwhelming heat between her legs and across the rest of her body. Santana raked her eyes over her gorgeous girlfriend, who was the picture of submission right now. She broke from her role momentarily to whimper at the vision—heaving breasts under a lace bra, shaking legs, eyes pinched shut in anticipation, and liquid heat trickling down strong thighs—all for her.

Santana leaned in, brushed her lips against Quinn's, and then denied the kiss by moving to lick, bite, and suck the blonde's neck with vigor. Quinn reflexively moved her hands to Santana, one hand tangling itself in dark hair, the other slipping under the back of the tank top. But, Santana ripped her lips away from an alluring neck. She grasped both of the blonde's wrists and slammed them against the glass. "No touching. You touch, I stop," growled the brunette. Quinn could only whimper in frustration. Santana smiled and went back to kissing Quinn's neck.

Fingers dragged over trembling thighs, lightly moving from the inside to the back, producing chills in their wake. Santana then moved her hands to the ends of Quinn's blouse and wrenched it off of her and tossed it to the floor. Her hands roughly found Quinn's breasts, and she nearly violently tweaked and pinched already hard nipples through sheer lace. Quinn's hand shot away from the glass to move into Santana's hair, but the brunette caught the movement out of the corner of her eye and instantly stepped away from Quinn. Santana narrowed her eyes at the frustrated blonde. "What did I say? No touching," the brunette ordered. Quinn balled her fists and pounded them against the glass in aggravation. "Fuck, Santana," the blonde whined. "Excuse me? Are you complaining?" Santana responded indignantly. "No, baby. Just please…touch me," Quinn replied with distinct need in her voice. "Much better," Santana quipped with a smile and pressed her body back into Quinn's and her lips back to her neck.

As Santana kissed her way over a collarbone to the top of firm breasts, the smell of Quinn's arousal assaulted her senses, and she moaned in anticipation. She dragged a finger along an inner thigh, gathering up a coating of wetness. With her lips hovering over a bra-clad nipple, she asked, "Is this all for me?" Then, she stood upright and locked eyes with Quinn, whose breathing had become even more ragged. Santana slowly licked her finger as Quinn watched. The blonde nodded and replied, "All for you, honey. Only you." Santana's eyes closed as she savored the small taste of Quinn. She then dropped that same hand back to quivering upper thighs and lightly dragged them up and down, stopping when she reached trimmed curls, and brushing them teasingly over the top of Quinn's center. A feral grin spread across Santana's face as she flicked her eyes between Quinn's dark hazel-green eyes and her parted lips. The brunette knew that the teasing and the lack of kissing were killing Quinn, but she also knew that the build-up was wonderful.

Santana leaned in once again and her lips were almost touching Quinn's, and the blonde wanted nothing more than to lunge forward and kiss her very mean girlfriend right now, but she waited. The brunette saw the look and nearly laughed. Instead, she husked, "I can't decide how I want to fuck you…with my tongue or my fingers. What do you think I should do?"

Quinn could barely find words let alone form a coherent thought at this point. "I don't know…I don't care…just fucking touch me." Santana simply smiled against Quinn's lips, still not fully touching them with her own. "Well, then, I guess I'll just have to mull this one over," she whispered with a hint of taunting in her voice. While she "contemplated," her fingers drifted higher and very lightly swept along Quinn's swollen outer lips, eliciting a groan from the blonde. At the teasing touch, Quinn's hands slipped away from glass, one moving on its own accord towards Santana's wrist. The brunette stepped away again. Quinn slammed her hands back on the glass in utter frustration, causing the entire windowpane to vibrate. The blonde's head triggered another reverberation as she dropped it against the glass as well. Santana gave the blonde the once-over again, noting how much Quinn's calves were shaking in those gorgeous but unsteady knees. A pang of sympathy ran through Santana.

"You going to keep your hands on that glass now?" Quinn nodded, her eyes still closed and her lips parted. Santana stepped back towards her and kicked the blonde's legs apart with the front part of her cowboy boot. The pain and sudden movement caused Quinn's head to lurch off of the glass and catch Santana's eye. The look in the blonde's eye could only be described as a glare—not the HBIC glare of years ago, just…different. For Santana, the glare translated as "Bitch, I love you, but you better fucking touch me." The brunette loved this glare.

With Quinn's legs where she wanted them, Santana pressed her body against Quinn's, lips hovering, breathing uneven. She dropped her hand again between the blonde's legs and continued her teasing like nothing happened. This time, she grazed a throbbing clit a few times, though barely making contact. Quinn tossed her back against the glass and under her breath whined, "Bitch." They both softly chuckled at this, knowing why Quinn said it. Santana, still smiling, replied quietly, "Oh really?" and, without warning, drove two fingers into Quinn, causing both women moan loudly.

Santana kept her lips brushing against Quinn's, not wanting to kiss her yet. She also hadn't moved her fingers; she kept them still inside the blonde's dripping center. Santana just…waited. "Holy fuck, Santana. Please," Quinn pleaded through gritted teeth. The brunette didn't respond for a moment. "I'm still contemplating if I want to keep my fingers where they are or replace them with my tongue. Any thoughts?" The playfulness in Santana's voice was clear, but Quinn had reached her breaking point.

Her hands flew up and violently grabbed dark hair on either side of Santana's head, and she ripped her head away from the glass to bore her eyes in deep chocolate brown. "Jesus fucking Christ, Santana. If you don't fuck me right now, I'll toss your ass to the ground and finish the job myself," Quinn growled. Santana's eyes widened and then she smiled. "Your hands are off of the glass, Q. That was against the rules. You know what I said I'd do if you didn't listen."

Quinn didn't back down. Instead, she wrapped one leg around Santana's waist and dug a sharp heel into the brunette's jean-clad ass, earning a whimper from her girlfriend. She then slipped her hand down to the back of Santana's neck and dug her nails in as she pulled the brunette closer, lips hovering once again. "Your rules…are bullshit. You know what you're actually going to do? You're going to fuck me against this glass until I scream your name. You got that?" Quinn insisted through a tight-lipped expression. For emphasis, she dug her nails and heel in deeper.

Santana's eyes rolled back, and she moaned at the blonde's aggressiveness. It was the brunette's turn to breathe irregularly. She tried to hold her ground, but she loved Quinn like this, loved seeing how much the blonde wanted her and needed her touch. She pushed a little more. "You think you're in position to make demands? Feel where my hand is," she pushed her fingers deeper but then stilled them. "You're at my mercy. You'll do what _I _want." Their eyes locked; the battle had come to a head. Santana licked her lips sensually and because of their proximity, her tongue lightly brushed against Quinn's lips as well. Both were on the brink, and that small caress of that tongue almost undid them at the same time. Instead, Quinn drove her heel harder into Santana's ass, knowing that she could draw blood with the force that she employed.

Santana growled, and then, she abruptly sucked and bit Quinn's bottom lip in retaliation. The blonde grunted, and the battle of wills was teetering. The stubbornness of both women often put them in this position, but they also loved it. Quinn had one card left to play, and she figured now was the time to pull the ace out of her sleeve. She held Santana's gaze as she slowly, sensually rolled her hips, silently begging for Santana to move her fingers and make her come. Santana moaned loudly and crashed her lips into Quinn's while her fingers began slipping easily in and out of Quinn's hot, wet pussy. Point: Fabray.

Quinn matched Santana's sounds and kept moving her hips in rhythm with Santana's pace. "God, yes, baby…you feel so fucking good," Quinn grunted in between frantic kisses. Santana knew that Quinn would come hard and fast, so she pushed her fingers deeper and curled them, finding her favorite spot inside the blonde. Her thumb intuitively drifted to Quinn's painfully hard clit and began rubbing in circles. Quinn's hips instantly bucked at the touch, and she gasped as she felt the rumbling heat move through her body. "Don't stop…please…oh Santana."

Santana sensed the clenching around her fingers and groaned at how good it felt to be inside of Quinn. The first wave hit the blonde fiercely, and as the intense orgasm wracked through her body, she slammed bare skin against cold glass. Santana didn't stop going as deep as she could in an effort to coax another orgasm out of her girlfriend. With a few deft swipes of her thumb over a still-pulsing clit, she succeeded, and Quinn grunted and strained as the next burst shot through her. "Fuck! Santana!" she yelled. Santana watched Quinn come again through hooded eyes and felt hypnotized by the vision of which she'd never grow tired.

As Quinn came down, Santana rested her head on the blonde's shoulder, breathing heavily, and Quinn dropped her leg to the ground with a thud. At the noise, Santana knew that Quinn was probably having a difficult time standing, so she grasped the back of the blonde's thighs and lifted her against the glass. Quinn took the cue and wrapped her legs around the brunette. Santana led them the few steps back to Quinn's large office chair. Once seated, Quinn fell forward, pressing her body against Santana, and the brunette wrapped her arms around the exhausted blonde.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, simply enjoying the intimacy, Quinn couldn't help but giggle. "So I guess we finally christened my office." Santana softly chuckled as she pulled back to look up into beautiful hazel-green eyes. "Looks like it. And, hopefully, no one was walking by your door a few minutes ago," Santana added with a wink.

Blonde eyebrows shot up in surprise and a bit of fear. "Oh shit. I was really loud. Shit shit shit." She shook her head and fear started taking over the surprise. Santana brought her hands up to cup Quinn's face. "Don't worry, baby. I'm sure if anyone heard anything that Chris came up with some excuse. He's good like that; he takes care of you." Santana's soft, soothing tone immediately quelled any anxiety that Quinn felt.

"You're right," Quinn replied with a smile. They held an intimate gaze for a long moment. "I like your office visits, by the way," Quinn smirked.

"Oh yeah? Well, I'll have to do these more often, since you clearly need to learn how to listen." Santana tried to hide the grin, unsuccessfully though.

"You're right. I clearly need to learn my lesson." They smiled lovingly at each other until Quinn realized that her legs were falling asleep. They both got up and began fixing their clothes. The blonde then realized that she was missing something. "Honey, can I have my underwear back?" she said sweetly.

Santana gave her a pointed look. "I told you, these are mine," she responded patting her jeans pocket. Quinn tilted her head and gave her a pout. "How about you grab a new pair at home when you change for dinner tonight?"

"Dinner?"

"Even though, you don't know how to listen, I still love you and am taking you to Morimoto."

Quinn's smile was bright, and she knew that going commando for a little bit was a fair compromise for dinner at one of her favorite restaurants. She also knew that the thought of her going commando would linger with Santana.

"Or how about I change for dinner but forgo the underwear altogether?" Quinn quipped. Santana's jaw dropped, and Quinn could swear that she saw drool form immediately. Point: Fabray. _Yep, she'll be wearing those boots tonight_.

_**Fin**_.


End file.
